


Mortal Instinct

by PencilofAwesomeness



Category: RWBY
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Internal Conflict, Mentions of Suicide, Oneshot, Qrow just wants to be alone, Siblings, contemplation of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 10:25:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10534566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PencilofAwesomeness/pseuds/PencilofAwesomeness
Summary: When faced with death, it is an animal's instinct to accept it in private solitude. However, it has become a human's instinct to fight it out in the presence of loved ones.Qrow is conflicted.Takes place during Volume 4 Episode 8, when Qrow takes a walk.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, I should be updating other things... but whatever. This concept has been bugging me for the past few weeks or so, so I finally decided to write it. Didn't really know where I was going with it, but... It happened. Here you go.

Animals have a finite concept of life and death. When they are alive, they survive; and when they can no longer survive, they cease to become relevant. There are no more ties to keep them on the earth, so they wander off alone to die.

Humans have lost that instinct, their practicality overrun with sentimentality. Even when their threads have been cut, many a human will fight to remain for those they love. And if they must die, it is considered a blessing to share their dying moment in the presence of loved ones.

Qrow knew he was poisoned. Whether it was his instinct as a Huntsman that told him that, or something more animalistic, he didn’t care to determine. His veins ran hot and his cold skin burned; the more he talked, the heavier his lungs grew. At the rate he was going, he was going to die, and here, there was little he could do about it.

One of the things he _could_ do was leave. Find a spot alone, clear his head one last time… And let nature run her course. It was amazing he had lived this long; there was little use pushing his _luck_ any further. Standing felt like agony, and his twitching muscles didn’t want to cooperate, but Qrow made to leave anyways.

“There’s nothing _else_ you want to tell us?”

Yes. Yes, there was. _I’m sorry_ , for one thing. How proud he was of Ruby, of _them_ , for making it this far in the shittiest of times. What they should do in Haven. How badly he screwed up as an uncle. _I love you_.

The raven that alighted on the branch stared at him with red eyes. It wasn’t one of the crows or birds that followed him curiously; this one was trying to read him. He knew her anywhere.

“Not tonight.”

The woods are quiet, and Qrow is grateful for the small nicety. The shadows beckon him, cool compared to his flaming veins and sweaty skin, and his instinct is drawn to their burrows, ready to lie down. He follows it at first, but a little nagging at his mind stops him from finding peace.

“What do you want?” He hates how broken his voice sounds. It would have been better filled with anger, or even exasperation, but he’s too tired to muster any of that right now.

The raven flies beside him, and soon she’s standing by the tree. “You told them,” she accused.

Qrow’s scoff doesn’t take much effort; it comes naturally. “They deserve to know. It’s about to be their problem.” And they shouldn’t have had to lie to family in the first place. But the Branwens had already blew that to high heaven, so what’s the point?

“And if they can’t handle it? That information was dangerous.”

That was always the fear of those who kept secrets—that the reason it was a secret would manifest itself in the ugliest of ways. But it wasn’t Qrow’s, and the only man he was loyal to in the matter was indefinitely incapacitated. “They’ll handle it. They’ll have to.”

He tries to move around her; the shadows open their arms to him, and finally, Qrow is ready to accept. She stands in his way, arms cross. “You sound like you’re going to lay down and die.”

“I am.”

The silence Qrow appreciated grows unbearable; it gives his head free reign to pound and scream, while his thoughts grow numb.

Finally, she breaks it. “Qrow,” she sighs. Raven sounds more human than she has for a while, and it makes Qrow stop in his efforts to move around her. His twin moves forward, red eyes trained on where his hand stays pressed to his side. For the first time in years, Qrow sees his estranged sister falter.

“How?” Her words are dark and promising, and for a second, Qrow sees the past times, when things were brighter and she was always at his side, and vice versa.

But those times were past. Qrow shakes his head, giving her a knowing look. Was such a question really necessary? Even if the details mattered, when it boiled down to it, it would be _her_. Raven’s nostrils flare and her eyes narrow; she understands, but she’s still upset.

He sighs. He hurts, and he’s _tired_. “Just…” Qrow’s breath fails him, and he needs a moment to regain his wheezing voice. “Just leave me alone.” _Let me die in peace._

She stares at him a moment longer, and her hand rests on his shoulder. The touch is startling, after so long, but it feels right; it’s as much company a Branwen can give as fate calls. Unspoken apologies, remorseless, pass through their gaze before Raven flies off.

Qrow now has what he wanted: solitude. Yet, it still doesn’t sit well with him. His heart, his cursedly human heart, isn’t satisfied. He leans against a tree, staring blankly at the starry sky; each star brings a memory—some of the things he accomplished, but mostly of the things he could’ve done better.

He closes his eyes, bracing himself. The poison has a solid grip now, and it has spread considerably. Qrow could finish this—quickly, efficiently, _properly_. His innate form is smaller; as a crow, he would die almost instantly. Less hassle, less body, less decay. No one will ever know of the Huntsman that thought he could make a difference in the world of man. All he has to do is shift.

Except it isn’t that simple; there _is_ someone who will notice. Ruby will come after her uncle, ever loyal to her family. Her friends will help, undoubtedly, and they’ll waste precious time on him. Ruby will never find him; she’ll never realize that some indiscreet ball of feathers black as death is him. It would be cruel, to make Ruby endure such uncertainty.

It would also be cruel to make her watch him die slowly.

Those bright silver eyes had already witnessed too much death; the last thing Qrow wanted was to force more on her. But hadn’t he already? As soon as Qrow told her the truth about the Maidens, he had crushed what chances she had at living peaceably.

She wouldn’t be the only one to suffer. Yang was already so hollow; Qrow didn’t know if one more tragedy would affect her any, or if it would tip her over the edge. The same edge Taiyang had been flirting with for some time. Qrow isn’t sure if their relationship is healthy in any regards of the word, but him up and leaving wouldn’t help. James and Glynda would be disappointed, more than anything else. They were too old to be wounded, and he was the odd one out anyways.

Everyone was better off without him. Qrow knew this without a doubt. But he wasn’t stupid; they were only human, and they would falsely mourn his passing. And if he were to die inconspicuously, the uncertainty might haunt them. Or, worse yet, they’ll develop futile hope.

The least he could do is go back. Stop them from doubting. With any luck, the poison will work quickly, and he’ll be dead long before they wake up. And, Qrow is selfish to admit it, but there’s a part of him that would rather be in good company in his last waking moments.

Decided, Qrow hobbles back against his initial instinct. They’ve all slipped into their bags at this point, asleep. He picks a tree a small distance away, and simply watches them. The warmth of the fire, the steady rise and fall of their chests, their resting faces…

A hot flare of pain in his ribs has him clenching his teeth, but he accepts it. Qrow leans back, closes his eyes, and waits for the inevitable in the company of family.

 

 

 

He wakes with a cough, racking his body with painful spasms. There’s a shifting, and suddenly Ruby’s beside him. Qrow barely registers the sickly purple phlegm coating his hand, and instead is painfully aware of Ruby’s gasp.

She’s awake, and so is he. It seems he didn’t quite make it to the other side in time for a clean transition.

“Well.” Qrow even fails at death. “That’s unfortunate.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sorry. I mean, I am, but I'm /not/. His random leaving when he could barely walk straight has bothered me for a while, so this was me filling in the blanks. I have a ton of head-cannons for these two, and if anyone is interested, I'll eventually (maybe) be posting a Team STRQ story that goes into them. If you care.
> 
> Comments validate my existence, because I am a selfish author. 
> 
> Kay, thanks, bye!


End file.
